It is anguish.
It is hope.
Is desire gone in a thought…
The separating thin line.
An unknown stare.
Unread words that drown…
It is a none believer.
A hyprocrite’s care.
The constant avoidance.
Journey through stormy neurons.
It is the toxicity of a cigarette.
Inhale, not filtered.
Exhale, not solidified.
The next step.
The might be.
The paralyzing sting.
It is not to expect.
Let go, embrace.
Knowingly dive in!
Here’s a second from Bernice, a powerful poem.
for real this time
like keyboards replacing pens
screens replace lined canvas
now decorated in vibrant hues of positive vibes, anticipations and barriers broken
no longer smeared by random thoughts, heartbreaks and unfulfilled dreams.
the new organized chaos.
scattered visions float like unpieced puzzles
authentic God sent reverie.
the forces have aligned,
spirit has been revived, eagerly anticipating the next trail
she’ll tag with syllabic tongue prints
agonizingly contorting minds
making them wish they were double-jointed.
no longer suffocated by the panic
she’s modified her manipulation of thought.
they can’t get you if it really don’t faze you,
negated conquest not no matter how hard they try.
no longer necessary to look to the sky for approval and acceptance
as it now lives in her, on her, through her.
she has been humbled, once again,
by HIS welcoming arms opened as wide as the first time she sought HIM
17 years back.
she’s reminded that HIS gift is food for the soul to be digested and absorbed
not wasting on her as it has been for way too long.
finally returning to the connection of her soul’s roots
with Zen-like serenity
she writes sans a puff, sans a swig
soul in spread eagle vulnerable beyond cognition
never felt so good,
All rights reserved by Bernice Sosa